


How To Trick Troublesome Baby Digimon Into Taking Their Naps, A Biography By Umeno Atasuki

by WhatIsThisNonsense



Series: Digimon Adventure: Spite Edition [4]
Category: Digimon Adventure
Genre: Gen, In which Wizardmon is a problem child, Smorb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26540998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatIsThisNonsense/pseuds/WhatIsThisNonsense
Summary: Minnie has a partner, an understanding of the plot, and a new-found appreciation for villains who's main transgressions are about trying to kick destiny in the nads. Unfortunately, the wiggly smorb in her arms seems very determined to throw himself into his canon-mandated death, so she has other priorities at the moment. The existential dread can wait.
Series: Digimon Adventure: Spite Edition [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929943
Kudos: 8





	How To Trick Troublesome Baby Digimon Into Taking Their Naps, A Biography By Umeno Atasuki

It was terribly unfortunate that becoming a small smokey orb ( _smorb?_ ) had made Wizardmon ( _?????_ ) ( _was this what getting old felt like, constantly not understanding new things in spite of their happening forever and disliking it heavily?_ ) no less stubborn, but now completely incapable of expressing himself besides whines and flailing his stubby little arms as Minnie struggled to keep him in her grip.

Luckily, he was also now terribly tiny, and it wasn’t like Minnie hadn’t dealt with fussy children before. With deft baby juggling, she got the door to her family’s apartment over their bar open. “I’m ho–”

Oh, right. 

The squirming mass of ash that at one point been Wizardmon continued to struggle, preventing her from reflecting on the ghastly silence of her house. She grimaced, shifting her hold on him while kicking the door closed behind her.

“Look, I know you’re worried”, she said, instantly slipping into her Babysitter Voice without thinking about it. “But you’re going to get smoked if you go out there like this.” She paused and glanced the orb over. “Well, extra smoked”, she conceded.

The smorb didn’t think much of her sense of humor; indeed, he replied with an unhappy squeak and what was undeniably a _pout_ before somehow managing to flail harder.

By some miracle, Minnie managed to hold on to the misbehaving monster all the way into her bedroom. Normally, when a child was being this fussy about going to bed, she’d build a pillow fort with them, and the softness would often lull them to sleep after the constructive act wore them out. The fussy ball of ash in her arms was already worn out, by virtue of having nearly died today, but putting him down without something already done would have probably resulted in– she didn’t know. Him throwing himself out the window to go fight the forces of darkness despite being about the size of a soccer ball.

She had been directly involved with this destiny nonsense for exactly three hours and she was already tired of it.

For once, however, her own slightly messy habits were a blessing, for a throw blanket was laying out on her floor ( _probably where she had been writing in an odd angle to try to get some blood flowing to her brain)_ , precisely where she could snag it with her foot. With practiced, if somewhat difficult, movements, the young woman used her leg to pass the blanket up, and from there swiftly wrapped the smorb up in it and set him on the table.

At first this only seemed to upset him, if his muffled squeaks of protest were of any indication, but as he tried to fight his way out of it the softness clearly began to take effect, his movements slowing. Just as his little head poked out, it promptly fell into the blanket, and stayed there.

Minnie waited a moment before heaving a sigh of relief, slumping and falling backwards onto her own bed. She stared at her ceiling, the days events playing in her head and the silence of the house reminding her of the ache in her chest. She couldn’t decide if she could never sleep again, or was going to go to sleep and never wake up.

The deafening quiet broke with a tiny, wheezing sound, not unlike a snuffly puppy. 

The young woman blinked a few times before rolling onto her side, staring wide-eyed at the monster curled up in a blanket on her desk. With every heave of his breath, another sound came out, steady as the tides. It took her a moment to completely register that yes, the tiny smorb that had been throwing a tantrum was, in fact, _snoring._

She bit her lip to keep from giggling.


End file.
